


What Could Have Been

by thingcalledlove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Home Movies, M/M, Plot Twist, Pre-Slash, Unbeta'd, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-09
Updated: 2012-12-09
Packaged: 2017-11-20 16:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/587299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thingcalledlove/pseuds/thingcalledlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The camera zooms in on the face of a very beautiful woman who looks vaguely familiar. </p><p>“Who’s the babe?” Stiles jokes, turning to look over at Derek. </p><p>“My mom,” Derek replies with a glare. </p><p>“Oh, shit, dude, I’m sor—” Stiles breaks off his apology as his eyes drift back towards the screen. Beside Mrs. Hale is another familiar face. One he hasn’t seen in a long time. His mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Could Have Been

**Author's Note:**

> My first time writing Teen Wolf fanfiction. Go easy on me! Also this fic is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

Stiles fingers fly over the keyboard as he reaches the final paragraph in the body of his English paper. He’s in the zone now, and he is filled with glee at the thought of not having to pull an all-nighter to get it done. He suspects Scott will have to pull an all-nighter, if the 17 text messages he has received are an indicator. The first of which asking what book they had to read.

He glances at the corner of his screen to see the time. 11:16PM. 

He figures that it will take him another thirty minutes to write out the final body paragraph, as well as the conclusion, another five to getting the formatting exactly how he likes it, and finally, another fifteen or so minutes to do a quick edit. He’ll do another quick edit when he wakes up, to fix any mistakes he missed the first time around, and then he’ll be done. He smiles in satisfaction at his progress, because every once in a while, it is nice to do mundane things like English papers. 

These days, most of his research consists of the supernatural, and more times than not, Stiles winds up having to run for his life.

“Stiles.”

It’s a testament to how messed up his life is that he doesn’t automatically jump out of his chair and on to the floor at the sound of a voice in his otherwise empty house. Though, he won’t deny the fact that his heart is beating a mile a minute. 

He turns around in his chair as gracefully as he can manage, which isn’t so graceful considering he still has his headphones plugged in, which yank him back towards the computer. He pulls them off, belatedly realizing that music wasn’t even playing through them, and he only just noticed now.

“You need to stop doing that,” Stiles says as calmly as he can manage.

“Then close your window,” Derek replies, his voice as blank as his face. 

“It was closed,” Stiles argues sounding exasperated. 

“Then lock it.”

“It doesn’t lock!”

“And that is my problem how?” Derek asks lifting up an eyebrow.

Stiles just groans knowing there is no way to win with the Alpha, who is as stubborn as they come, and Stiles would know, considering he’s pretty damn stubborn himself.

“I’m assuming you came here for a reason?” Stiles asks as he rubs his face, looking weary. It’s never a good sign when Derek shows up in his room in the middle of the night. It usually has to do with a monster on the loose, and that tends to lead to the aforementioned running for his life thing.

Derek stiffens slightly, his fist clenching around a thin black rectangular box thing in his hand that Stiles notices for the first time.

“What is it?” Stiles asks skeptically, getting up from his computer chair and walking over to Derek who is still standing in front of the open window. He can’t help it. He’s a curious kid and he sometimes suspects that that curiosity will land him where it landed the cat.

Derek thrust his hand out and Stiles takes what he now realizes is a dvd case. The front and back of the case are blank, but it’s warm from where Derek had been holding it just moments before. Stiles shoots Derek a confused look as he opens the case. Inside is a blank disc with nothing written on it but a date in permanent marker. A very old date. About 14 years ago to be specific. 

“What is it?” Stiles asks again, looking at Derek, who now has his hands in his pockets, and a small frown on his face.

“Watch it.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “I’m kind of busy right now, Derek, if it’s not life threatening than I really don’t care what th—“

Derek has him pined to the wall before he can even finish his sentence, his hand fisted in the front of Stiles’ shirt.

“I. Said. Watch. It.”

“Okay,” Stiles says with a quick nod agreeing quickly, “I’ll watch it.”

Derek, satisfied with the response let’s go of Stiles’ shirt and uses his hand to smooth out any wrinkles on the front. He takes a step back so there is just enough space for Stiles to squeeze out from between the actual wall, and the figurative wall that is Derek Hale’s upper body.

“This better be important,” Stiles mutters, gaining some of his bravery back now that the werewolf Alpha isn’t breathing down his neck. He pops the dvd out of the case, and put it in to the slot on the side of his laptop. He makes sure to save his work before hand. 

The dvd starts up, and from the goosebumps that rise along the back of his neck, he knows Derek is close behind him and most likely watching over his shoulder.

The camera zooms in on the face of a very beautiful woman who looks vaguely familiar. 

“Who’s the babe?” Stiles jokes, turning to look over at Derek. 

“My mom,” Derek replies with a glare. 

“Oh, shit, dude, I’m sor—” Stiles breaks off his apology as his eyes drift back towards the screen. Beside Mrs. Hale is another familiar face. One he hasn’t seen in a long time. His mother. 

Stiles can feel the air leaving his lungs, leaving him feeling like he’s been hit by a truck. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. His eyes locked on the screen, watching his mother throw her head back and laugh. The sound is so rich and alive. 

“Shit, Stiles, breathe,” Derek says as he leans over Stiles’ shoulder and pauses the video, “Fuck, maybe I should have explained before I showed this to you.”

“You think?” Stiles manages to say past the lump forming in his throat. He’s practicing those breathing exercises he looked up to prevent him from having a full on panic attack. Like the one he is having right now. He gets up from his chair and paces the room, breathing deeply as he goes. Part of him can’t even understand why he is reacting so badly at seeing his mother again, but that is just it. He’s watched every home video he could get his hands on multiple times through the years. Hell, he even has his parents wedding video memorized word for word. He was sure that he had seen it all. That there was no way that he would turn on one of those videos and have her say something different. And then to have this? 

Stiles looks over at Derek who is standing beside Stiles desk just watching him pace. “How do you even have this?”

He can see Derek’s shoulders slump slightly at the question, and his eyes take on a faraway look, like he’s not really in the room anymore, his voice however come off just as hard as it usually does, giving nothing away. 

“It’s funny,” he says, in a way that let’s Stiles know that what he is about to say is anything but. “The fire burnt down my entire home. My family. But there were something that seemed to be completely untouched by the flames. I don’t know why, but they were. Laura was able to salvage a couple of home movies, and she had them converted into DVD format when we were in New York. I never watched them. I didn’t...”

He trails off, his eyes meeting Stiles. They’re closed off again, and Stiles knows that he’s not going to hear the rest of what Derek was about to say.

“The point is, I watched this, and I thought you might want to see it,” Derek finishes as he moves to sit on the edge of Stiles’ bed.

Stiles takes one final deep breath before going back over to his desk. He picks up the laptop and sits down next to Derek on the bed, with the computer on his lap. He pushes play and hears the end of his mothers laugh.

The camera pans out to show that they are outside of what Stiles guesses is the Hale family home, before it was burnt down. They are sitting on some patio chairs in the middle of the afternoon. An adolescent Laura Hale sits nearby. Her eyes are on the two boys off to the side. The camera pans towards them and Stiles once again feels like he’s been hit a truck when he recognizes the two year old version of himself on the screen. Stranger still is the fact that the eight year older version of Derek Hale is there. Laughing. 

Stiles side-eyes Derek, who stiffens, but purposely avoids looking at him, keeping his frown turned towards the screen. 

“Aw, looks like Der-Bear made a new friend,” Laura mocks onscreen, causing the onscreen Derek to blush furiously.

“Shut up, Laura!” he says in what Stiles recognizes as the more adorable version of the frown he wears now. 

He can’t help but look over at the real life Derek, “Der-Bear?”

Derek looks at him with a feral grin, holding up his hand which has shifted into its werewolf form, claws dangerously sharp, “Call me that again.”

Stiles visibly gulps, “No, no, I’m good, once was enough. It’s out of my system now.”

Onscreen, Derek is still yelling at Laura while baby Stiles looks on amused, trying to shove his whole fist into his mouth.

“Enough, both of you,” Mrs. Hale scolds looking between her two children, “We don’t want Julia to think that my two manner-less children were raised by a pack of wolves do we?” There is a glint in her eyes, and Stiles can see both Laura and Derek trying to hide a smile.

Stiles can’t help but laugh at that, “I really like your mom.”

“Most people did,” Derek responds, not sounding upset but there is a barely there emotion in his voice that Stiles can’t quite place.

“Mama,” baby Stiles says capturing actual Stiles’ attention and reverting it back towards his computer. He watches his mother lift him up in her arms and swing him around, placing kisses all over his face. 

“My sweet little boy,” she says as he pulls at the shiny strands of her hair. Two year old Stiles looks so content in his mother’s arms. His own chubby arms flailing around wildly as she just laughs. “I didn’t know I could even love this much, and then I had you.”

“That’s what happens when you have kids,” Mrs. Hale says fondly looking over at Derek who sits on the patio steps looking bored, “You find these unlimited resources of emotion.”

“Do you know what other feeling I seem to have an unlimited amount of? Fear,” Julia Stilinski says as she rocks Stiles in her arms. 

“Oh yeah,” Mrs. Hale laughs, “That one is pretty prominent too.”

“I’m terrified of all things that could possibly go wrong,” Julia says as she places another kiss on Stiles’ head. “I just want to keep him safe, but I know that he’s going to grow up, and there will be less and less that I can do to protect him.”

“He’s going to be fine,” Mrs. Hale says reassuringly, “I can already tell that you have one smart little boy on your hands. With you and the soon to be Sheriff around, I can’t see him getting into too much trouble.”

Stiles can’t help but chuckle at how wrong she was, well about the trouble part at least. He would like to think that so far, he turned out to be someone his mom would be proud of. The lump in his throat is back as he watches his mother continue to coddle the younger him. He can practically feel every kiss she places searing into his skin. There is nothing he wouldn’t give to have her wrap her arms around him again, showering him with kisses and love. He’s find it hard to breathe again, but he can’t tear his eyes from the screen.

“There is nothing I want more than for him to grow up being happy,” his mother says softly, her voice full of love. “I want him to grow up being loved and protected. Safe.”  
She turns to look at Derek who is playing with his shoelaces. “You’re going to look out for him, right Derek?”

“Huh, what?” Derek asks, tuning into the conversation, looking between his mom and Julia.

“You’re going to keep him out of trouble, right?” Julia asks again with a breath-taking smile that seems to render eight year old Derek speechless for a second. 

“I’ll try,” he said grudgingly, “But it’s kind of hard. If there is something he shouldn’t go near, it’s like the first thing he runs toward. Like before, when we were inside, I had to stop him before he shoved a fork into the power outlet.”

Julia lets out a laugh as she shakes her head, “See, that’s the stuff that terrifies me. Kid’s just too curious of his own good.”

“Clearly, some things haven’t changed,” Derek says dryly from beside him. Stiles lets out a sound that is a mix between a laugh and sob. His eyes blurred from the tears he’s trying really hard not to let out. Crying in front of Derek is not on his to do list. He can appreciate Derek’s attempt at lightening the mood a bit though.

“Can I take Stiles inside for some ice cream?” Derek asks standing up from his spot on the stairs. At the word ice cream, baby Stiles seems to be doing his best to wither out of his mom’s arms, reaching out for Derek. 

“Stiles?” Julia asks curiously setting the baby down.

Derek just shrugs as he holds out a finger for Stiles to take hold of. “His real name is stupid, I like this better.”

“Derek!” Mrs. Hale says looking horrified at her son. “Apologize.”

Julia just waves it away as she laughs; something Stiles realizes she does...did a lot of. “Stiles Stilinski, it’s definitely got a ring to it.”

Derek just nods, looking pleased that the grown-ups agree.

“How about we all take Bea...excuse me, Stiles, in for some ice cream. I got a craving for chocolate myself.”

The camera abruptly shuts off, leaving Stiles staring at a blank screen with his mouth hanging wide open. He looks over at Derek, gaping like a fish before he falls back onto his bed, his arms spread out. “My whole life is a lie.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Derek says with an eye roll, getting up to stretch out his limbs. 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me that it was you who,” he can’t even finish the sentence as he rubs his face with his hands. 

“I didn’t remember that, I didn’t even remember knowing you.” Derek states simply taking Stiles’ computer back to the desk, before leaning over it. Stiles can hear the sound of the keys as Derek types, his mind still spinning.

“I think I know you, I decide that I know everything I need to know about Derek Hale, and then you do something that changes my whole perception of you,” Stiles says leaning up on his elbows watching Derek move from the desk to the open window.

“You only know what I want you to know,” he answers as he manoeuvres his body onto the window sill. He nods towards the open laptop, “I made that copy for you.”

And then he’s gone.

Stiles stares at his ceiling for a long time after that. “Like I said, you do one thing, and it changes my whole perception of you,” he says to the empty room.

* * * * * * 

Stiles wakes up the next morning with his headphones on and his mother’s voice in his ear, talking about how she wants him to be happy. He spent the remainder of last night watching the video in repeat, realizing that he must have fallen asleep at some point with it still on.

His charger is still plugged into the laptop which explains why it didn’t die half way through the night as he slept. He glances at the clock and does a double take. He’s going to be late if he doesn’t leave soon, but he still has a partially completed essay on his hands. He picks up his cell phone with the intention of texting Scott to cover for him during first period so he can finish up his essay for second period English.

After typing up a response and hitting send he notices he has one unread text from Derek. It was sent about an hour ago, and it simply tells him to check his e-mail.  
Stiles tosses his phone and his bed and pulls up his gmail account. He snorts when he sees that Derek wrote ‘Subject’ in the subject line. The e-mail message itself if blank, but there is an attachment included that he downloads, hoping it’s not some sort of virus. 

He’s pleasantly surprised and more than a little confused to find out that it is not a virus. It’s his English paper with a whole bunch of corrections on it. Stiles scans through the edited copy of his paper sort of slack jawed. Derek had picked up on mistakes that Stiles didn’t even realize were mistakes until having a closer look. Derek even went as far as giving him suggestions on how to write up his concluding paragraph as well as finishing up the one he had partly written the night before. 

At the bottom of the document was a small note:

_I minored in English at NYU.  
What’s your perception of me now?_

Stiles tries hard not to concentrate on the way his heart skips a beat.


End file.
